Despondency
by al.writes
Summary: Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings - Anais Nin. The story of Leah.
1. Chapter 1

_disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters._

_Here is my new Leah story, because she never gets enough credit. _

Despondency:_ state of being despondant; depression of spirit from loss of courage or hope; dejection._ Synonym:_ Heartache._

**Preface**

Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens up your heart so someone can get inside and screw you up. You build up all these defenses; this whole wall of armor so nobody can hurt you, and then one stupid person walks into your stupid life and it all comes crumbling down. You give them a piece of you. They don't ask for it, but you give it to them none the less. They look into your eyes, envelope your hand in their own, move their lips against yours – dumb things that make it so your life is no longer controlled by you.

Love takes hostages. It gets inside you and rips you apart. It leaves you crying in the darkness wondering what the hell happened. Simple phrases like "I never meant for things to end up this way," and "Please, can't we still be friends?" work their way through you like a glass splinter.

It hurts. Not just in the imagination, not in a way that you can control. It's a hurt that goes deep into the soul, a whole body-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain.

I hate love.

**Chapter 1**

I woke up in his arms, my body lying halfway on top of him, my head tucked under his chin. Each breath I took was stained with his deep, woodsy sent, sending me back into a flurry of confusion and happiness. I did not move, content to stay here forever, never disturbing this perfect moment. It felt so right, so easy and natural, to be lying here across his chest, our legs tangled together. I was in complete and utter bliss. Sam adjusted, his arms tightening their hold on me, and then he relaxed back into sleep, exhausted. My lips pulled up at the corners.

How long had we been like this? I shifted, careful not to wake him, and glanced at the clock that was balancing precariously off the side of the bedside table. The glowing green numbers told me it was 4:23am. I repressed a groan. That was way, way too early for me to even be somewhat conscious.

I gently disentangled myself, stretching my legs and pointing my toes; flexing and tensing my muscles. There was a lot of stiffness and I was sore in places I had never been sore before, but mostly I had the odd feeling that I was a light as a feather, and would float away as soon as Sam released his hold. Layers of happiness clouded my head. I was floating.

I had been ready to take this step with him for a while now, knowing we would be married in a few years so it would inevitably happen, and not wanting to wait. My dad was visiting his cousin, who had stopped in up north where my grandparents lived, and of course my mother tagged along. They had left Thursday, and, not wanting to pull me and Seth out of school, I had been put in charge for the weekend. Seth was staying at a friend's house, and that left me and Sam alone for the night. Funny how perfect things work out, isn't it?

We had fit together perfectly, like the pieces of a puzzle, made to match up. Our breathing was low and harsh, declaring the love we held for each other in hushed whispers. He completed me, our bodies molding together; matching russet colored skin blending until we were one. It made me happy to know that not only were we compatible in so many other ways, but physically as well. Proof that we belonged together.

I looked up at him, sleeping so peacefully. He was beautiful, perfect, made just for me. I loved him more than everything in world combined.

I brought my fingers to his face, tracing from his prominent jaw line up to his forehead, where my hand slid through his silky black hair. It fell into his eyes as I moved my fingers down the bridge of his nose, and over his cheekbones, where they brushed the tips of his eyelashes. I lightly touched his eyelids, knowing that if they were to open, I would drown in the depths of what was underneath. Hoding my breath, the tip of my finger traced the shape of his lips. Those perfect lips. Lips that had molded to mine, moved with mine, so many times before. Lips that had kissed me up and down my body just hours ago, promising his love for me; promising he would never leave me.

I trusted these promises, trusted them with all my heart. I trusted that we would be married soon, and perhaps have children later on. I trusted that no matter what, Sam would be right beside me, loving me until death.

I closed my eyes again, succumbing to the layers of complete ecstasy that had me floating toward heaven. But instead of floating away, my body sank deeper into Sam's embrace, a wave of security washing over me. I knew that when I woke up (at a more reasonable time of day) he would be by side, vowing never to leave. I had faith in this, believed with everything I had that he would be there for me.

Because if I didn't, there would be nothing left.

* * *

_So I realize that I should probably finish my Quil/Claire story before I try and work on anything else, but I've been having so much trouble with that one. Everything I write is sounding forced and i just cant figure it out. Ive been trying for a while, believe me. (on that note, if you havent yet read my Quil/Claire story, I would highly appreciate some feedback). _

_But I needed a break from that so for now (while I wait for this extended case of writers block to pass) I just wanted to write what came easily to me. And this is what I got._

_Leahs story interests me. When you look at Sam and Emily, it seems like they've been together forever, but Sam used to be with Leah. He used to belong to her. There was so much more to that story then we got to see. Sure, Leah is a bitch now, but something made her that way. Something horrible and sickening; something that nobody should have to face. This imprinting story is different then the others, whether it looks that way on the surface or not. It wasnt all happieness. _

_The Preface of the story was based off a quote from Rose Walker, and obviously foreshadows the heartbreak Leah will see soon enough. Then we start at the beginging, when her and Sam are in love. Leave me a review and let me know how this chapter went, and if there's anything I should add, change, etc. I know it was a little short, but they will get longer as the story goes on. Promise ;)_

_Thanks for reading. I appreciate it._

_~allison_


	2. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this story...except maybe the forest ranger... ;)_

One week, 5 days, 10 hours, 23 minutes, 57…58…59 seconds.

"You had to have found something. It's been almost two weeks!"

One week, 5 days, 10 hours, 24 minutes, actually.

"I'm sorry Mrs. Uley, but there's no trace of him. We've got no clues that even hint to – "

"WELL LOOK HARDER, DAMMITT! _My god_, I'd be making more progress by going out there myself!" The forest ranger looked my way, surprised at my sudden, interruptive outburst. I had been sitting here quietly for the past 7 minutes and 12 seconds, listening to these useless forest rangers talk about absolute bullshit. My anger had been building by the second, the rangers oblivious to my rage.

Sam's mother sighed, sounding exhausted. "Leah, honey. Let me take care of this. Why don't you take a break from everything? You're exhausted. Go home. Get some rest."

I looked at her like she was completely insane, though I knew I was the one who was losing it. We didn't have time "take a break." Obviously the forest rangers were getting nowhere. I couldn't just sit back, relax, and watch them completely screw this up. What the _hell_was she thinking? But it was true; I needed to get out of this house before I really lost it. I stood up, my jaw clenched tight, and nodded my head once before turning to walk out the front door of the Uley household at precisely one week, 5 days, 25 minutes, and 3 seconds.

* * *

I ran. I ran as fast as I could, farther into the forest then I had ever been before. I screamed his name over and over as I went, my voice cracking through the sobs that heaved from chest. I would find him. . I _had_ to find him. The bottoms of my feet burned, bleeding a bright red. I had ditched the unpractical sandals Emily had insisted I buy about an hour ago, choosing to run barefoot. The branches and rocks cut through me like butter as I ran, but I didn't stop. I didn't think I could. I was numb, my legs moving forward unthinkingly, as I called out for the man I loved. My shirt had been torn, a wide slash cutting across the front and through the plaid material.

Well, it was Sam's shirt really. I had dressed in one of his flannel, button up tops, rolling the sleeves up to my elbows. It was huge on me, naturally, the end of it reaching just above my knees, but it smelled like him. Felt like him.

And oh god I missed him so much. How could he do this to me? How could he leave me here like this, with no letter, no phone calls; absolutely no contact whatsoever? If he was going to suddenly disappear of the face of the earth the least he could have done was take me with him. What was I supposed to do?

If he expected me to just sit around, he didn't know me at all. But that was the problem. He _did_ know me, and wouldn't have left me behind. This was an unplanned disappearance.

He was hurt.

Sam had disappeared on a Thursday, simply not showing up to school. I was disappointed, yes, but thought nothing of it. He was sick, I told myself, and decided to go see him as soon as school let out. I even contemplated skipping the last half of the day to spend time with him, but decided against it, considering I had already ditched a total of 3 classes last week and the principal was becoming a bit apprehensive.

I called his house after school, my brow furrowing when his mom had answered claimed he wasn't there. She was "oh so sure" he had went to school that morning. Where else would he have gone? Apparently they'd gotten in a fight the night before and he had left, shaking uncontrollably. She had called after him, but eventually just let him go, figuring he would head over to my house.

He didn't.

I became frantic. I called his cell phone, talked to all of his friends; everyone and anyone that might have a clue as to where he would be. But no one knew. Classmates were asking me where he was, assuming I would know.

I didn't.

People were beginning to talk, musing over the most probable reasons for his absence. They figured he was hurt, but I assured them they were wrong and he was fine, trying to convince myself more than anyone. I spent days with Mrs. Uley, drilling her with questions, hoping to god she would have some idea as to where he could be. She was his mother, for crying out loud. She_ had_ to know.

She didn't.

I searched the entire town, every place we had ever gone together; every place he had ever talked about. I made flyers with a picture I had taken of him just days before. he was sitting on my couch, smiling at something I had just said. I hung them on trees and in the windows of each store in town. I drove up to Port Angeles, and began hanging there as well, asking random, confused people if they had ever seen him and if they would please, _please_ call his number if they did.

They didn't.

By then the worst possible scenarios has begun to seep their way into my head. What if he had been hurt? Kidnapped? _Killed?_ Perhaps, stressed about the fight with his mom, he had walked out and into the forest, in search of a quiet place to think. He could have tripped in the dark, and hit his head. Or been cornered by a bear and killed in his attempt to get away.

He could be lying in the forest somewhere, hurt or nearly dead, waiting for someone to find him.

This thought is what had driven me to hike through the forest about a week ago. I searched for hours, soon realizing this wasn't doing any good. I needed help. That's when we decided to let the police take over. We had all the forest rangers out looking for him; searching for any sign that there had been an accident; that he had been hurt. I had faith that they would find something. I mean, come on, it was their job.

They didn't.

That's right. They found absolutely nothing. Which left me here, stumbling around god only knows where deep in the middle of the forest, panting so hard I may just heave up a lung. In my fit of rage toward the dumb ass forest rangers, I had decided I could do better and fled off into the forest to find my lost loved one.

Me. Leah Clearwater, the average girl from La Push, Washington, believed I could help Sam. Save him. It had been two weeks. Or rather - I glanced at the watch I wore on my wrist…

One Week, 5 days, 15 hours, 43 minutes, and 17 seconds.

It seemed so much longer than that.

By now, I figure, all hope is lost. Even if he had only been hurt, alive at one point during the week, he had gone without food or water all this time, without any treatment for those injuries…

He was gone.

And now because of my stupid, impulsive reactions, I was stuck here, deeper in the forest then I would have thought possible, with no idea how to get out. By tomorrow, the police would be looking for _me._

I stopped running, slumping against a tree, my legs finally giving out. I slid down to the ground, pulling my knees to my chest and leaning my head back, knocking it against the tree. I trying unsuccessfully to breath through the tears that leaked out of me, forming rivets down the lengths of my cheeks. I slowly shifted my body so I was lying down on my side, my legs curled to my chest in fetal position, my face pressed uncomfortably against the dirt floor. I wept for the man I loved.

I don't know how long I laid there, crying my heart out, hoping for a miracle. It could have been seconds, minutes, hours. My obsessive counting of how much time had passed seemed stupid now. It didn't matter how long he was gone, or how long I had been looking for him. Either way, he was gone.

It grew dark under the canopy of trees and I slowly became aware of my body, the terrifying depression receding, allowing me to regain control over myself. I needed to find my way back home. Sighing, I slowly got up from my crouched position on the dirt floor, and began to walk toward the way I had come. Sobs shook my now fragile frame.

I used to be strong. I never cried, especially not to this extent; to the point where my stomach hurt so bad I thought I may throw up.

I did. I watched everything I had eaten that day come up the same way it had went down in one sickening motion. My face was clammy with sweat, though I was freezing from the rain that continued to seep through the trees above me. Pieces of hair that had slipped out of my low ponytail stuck to my face and I brushed them away, along with the tears that just would not stop coming. I stared at my feet as I walked, sure that they were permanently stained red with blood. But I couldn't feel them, so I kept going. I weakly called out Sam's name once more, hoping for something that was no longer there.

* * *

By the time I emerged from the endless wall of trees, it was twilight, the darkness settling in over this tiny town. Had I really been gone for so long? I began the walk home, but found myself passing the driveway my house and heading toward Sam's. I didn't know why, it's not like his mother would have any news.

But that's where I ended up none the less.

I let myself in, feeling perfectly comfortable here, though the man that connected me with this tiny home was gone. I closed the door quietly behind me, and after a moment of debating, slipped on a pair of flats I had left here a few days ago. I didn't want to track blood through the house.

I still couldn't feel my feet.

That's when I heard her. Mrs. Uley was crying. Loud, shoulder shaking sobs that made me wan fall to my knees and weep as well. I walked hesitantly toward the kitchen, where the horrible noise was coming from. I felt obligated to comfort her but didn't to embarrass her; catch her in the act. I knew from experience that sobs like these were meant to experience alone. Despite this knowledge, I rounded the corner, biting my lip, set on comforting the mother who cried out for the man I loved.

I froze, my eyes widening and mouth dropping open. All the breath whooshed out of me in surprise. The same bone shaking cries that had erupted from Mrs. Uley now escaped my lips, bringing me to my knees.

Sam. He was home.

* * *

_So here it is. Chapter two. Let me know what you think. Be honest - its late, im tired, and there are probably some errors in this peice. I would be happy to fix them in the morning if you let me know in a review ;)_

_I realize Leah's reaction is a little dramatic, but I felt the need to show how much she loved Sam, because thats critical to who she becomes after he imprints. And if you think this is out of character, remember that Leah wasnt always a cynical bitch. She was in love, at one point. Also, Leah thinks Sam is dead. Thats why she has such a strong reaction. Im pretty sure even cynical bitch Leah would cry over Sam's death..._

_But thanks for reading._

_~allison_


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